


Crumbling Bricks

by Caitlincheri28



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Falling In Love, Love Triangles, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27110548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caitlincheri28/pseuds/Caitlincheri28
Summary: Moments after the Battle of Hogwarts, emotions are running high.The Boy Who Lived professes his love for the girl who has never left his side.But the girl has a secret of her own...in the form of a pale, blonde wizard.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 120
Kudos: 404





	Crumbling Bricks

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Friends.
> 
> This is my second attempt at writing a fic. I was inspired by a prompt I came across on Facebook. 
> 
> "Right after the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry proposes to Hermione, but she is already engaged to Draco". 
> 
> I wrote this out in a day with the glorious help of my Alpha AND Beta Shamione. She not only fixed all my grammatical mistakes, but she also gave me so many wonderful ideas as I was writing. I can't thank her enough.

The war was over. Completely over.  
  
Seven years of questions. Seven years of searching. Seven years of heartache, fear, and desperation. Seven years of growing up and discovering what love and loyalty and family truly meant.  
  
Seven years.  
  
Hermione sat next to Ron near the entrance of the Great Hall, resting her head on his shoulder with closed eyes. Just moments ago, her best friend had become the Savior of the Wizarding World by defeating evil. Flashes of glowing green and radiant red collided in a vicious display of dark vs. light. And in an instant, it was done. Joyful cries and sounds of crashing hugs so forceful they hurt sang across the hall, creating the perfect melody of victory.  
  
Sitting back up, Hermione scanned the room. Small pillars of smoke still wisped and curled, creating a fainted haze. Pieces of the Great Hall laid in ruins all about her, chunks of stone, wood, and glass littering the bloodstained floor. She could hear laughter mixed with quiet sobs, familiar faces finding and reuniting with their loved ones in a display of uninhibited elation. Smiles, tears, and a beautiful aura of peace fell over the room. She scanned again, fruitlessly, for the one person she so desperately craved to see. She couldn’t help but feel the invisible string, wrapped tightly around her heart, gently tugging towards him.  
  
_Him._  
  
It had been almost a year since their painful goodbye - a somber display of frantic kisses and promises drenched in broken optimism. The fleeting moments in which Hermione had seen him since had been fraught with torture, lies, fear, and most recently - fire.  
  
_I promise Granger. I promise I will find you._  
  
Words whispered as they had separated - pale fingers raking through messy curls as hot kisses had danced across her tear-stained cheeks. It had all been soul crushing. Not knowing if they would make it out alive or what their futures held. Knowing that the only thing keeping them going were hopeful promises.  
  
Quiet and invisible footsteps neared where she sat, pulling her from her memory. 

“It’s me. Will you come with me?”  
  
Hermione and Ron stood, following Harry. As they made their way through the crumbled castle towards Dumbledore’s office, Harry recounted the events that followed his departure to discover Snape’s memories. A story of a broken boy who fell in love with a girl he couldn’t have. A tale of sacrifice, betrayal, and heartbreak.  
  
Harry told them how he had seen his parents at the edge of the forest. How he had died yet chose to return. He told them how Narcissa Malfoy had saved him - giving him the chance to win the war. Hermione's eyes watered when Harry told them about Hagrid. Sweet Hagrid, sobbing as he was forced to carry what he thought was Harry's lifeless body through the forest.  
  
Hermione stood back and allowed Harry to have his moment with Dumbledore’s portrait. Harry needed closure after a lifetime of questions and searching. She watched as he repaired his wand and agreed profusely with Harry that the elder wand had no place in his or any person’s world. It was too powerful and too dangerous.  
  
“Do you want to come with me? To put the wand back?” Harry asked.  
  
Hermione looked to Ron, who smiled gently.  
  
“I think I need to go be with my family, Harry. If you want to wait until tomorrow--”  
  
“No, you’re right. Of course, you should be there, Ron. Fred—” he sighed and wrapped Ron in a hug. “I need to do this now, but I will find you after.”  
  
With tears trailing softly down his freckled cheeks, Ron left the office to join his family.   
  
Arm in arm, Harry and Hermione left the castle to make the long walk to the shores of the Black Lake. The cool early morning air caressed them both, and they huddled closer together. The grounds still smelled of smoke, and more carnage appeared with every step. But the crisp feel of the early morning wind combined with the smell of dewy grass helped ease the ache in their chests.  
  
Pure, white moonlight poured over the lake, shimmering against the purple and navy hues in the sky, which signaled the edge of dawn. In the distance, the glistening white tomb lay on the shore like a beacon - the symbol of the official beginning of the war and now the symbol of finality. Hermione stood back and watched as Harry approached the still cracked tomb. He took a deep, steadying breath and delicately placed the Elder Wand back into the hands of the great wizard. With a whispered “ _Reparo_ ,” the crack disappeared, leaving nothing but smooth white marble.   
  
“It’s done,” Hermione whispered as Harry wrapped her in a hug, nuzzling into her hair. “I can’t believe it’s over.”

“Hermione…” Harry mumbled. “Do you think we could just sit a moment? I am not ready to face it all just yet.”   
  
Understanding exactly what he was feeling, Hermione agreed. They snuggled together on an old log, a reminder of times in tents and forests when they relied so heavily on one another. Back when it was just them. Late nights filled with fear, hopelessness, and heartbreak. Seeking solace while listening to Potter Watch and rereading the same books--hoping new information would magically jump from the crinkled pages. They shared a bond that no one could understand. Harry was Hermione’s closest and best friend. She considered him her brother, so precious to her. She knew he felt the same--knew he understood her completely.

And Merlin, did she feel guilty for keeping such a large part of herself locked away from him. Two years of sneaking around and withholding the truth. There were so many times on those dark and stormy nights in the forest that she almost let it slip, but she knew it would only serve as a distraction. How do you tell your best friend that your soul mate is his enemy? What words could adequately explain that level of betrayal? Though Hermione didn’t see it as a betrayal, she knew Harry absolutely would.   
  
He wouldn’t understand.

How could he possibly accept that during their fifth year, when he was fueled by understandable rage and heartbreak at the loss of Sirius, that Hermione had drifted into a strange friendship with Draco Malfoy?  
  
None of her friends had noticed as she collapsed into the small alcove at the end of the hall. Crying over the hideous purple scar - a grotesque reminder of needless hate that will forever paint the smooth skin of her chest. It wasn’t important, and it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, but Hermione had needed one moment to herself to grieve. To process. To mourn her tarnished skin.

And _he_ noticed.

He had found her there, a pathetic, weeping shell of a witch. She would never know what had possessed him to sit next to her, slowly sinking until his arm had rested against hers, but she'd always appreciate it. No words had been spoken, but he'd built a bridge. His presence during her time of distress had marked the beginning of her shift in view. He had opened her mind to the many shades of grey that exist between white and black. He wasn’t simply Draco Malfoy, pompous git who worshiped an evil snake set to rid the world of mudbloods.

He was so much more.

Okay, he was a pompous git. But he wasn’t evil. Underneath the cocky exterior lived a contemplative and intelligent soul. Draco was brilliant-- the only person who had the wit to match Hermione’s. She knew he loved very few people, but those that were lucky enough to gain his love were loved with uninhibited fervor. Draco was loyal to a fault and kinder than he ever let on. 

Night after night, they had settled into the alcove, sometimes saying nothing at all but allowing the silence to break down the walls built between them throughout the last five years. Other times, they would talk for hours. She would tell him about her muggle childhood, and he would listen and make her laugh with his questions. He would tell her about his wizarding childhood, his life at the Manor. How he loved his mother and would do absolutely _anything_ to keep her safe. As his walls fell, Hermione saw the torment that wrecked his body and shadowed his soul. 

And making eye contact with Draco Malfoy at the start of their sixth year and seeing the utter devastation within his eyes...Hermione had known immediately what his father had forced upon him over the summer. Seeing the conflict and disgust on his face had caused something in Hermione to break. 

She had found him in that same alcove, his face littered with tears and body shaking with terror as she knelt to eye level.

_“Malfoy…”_   
  
_He twisted and wrenched his body away from her, her heart shattering as she gazed upon a boy who couldn’t make the right choice - who was forced into the wrong path without a choice._   
  
_“Granger…” he mumbled. “Please go. You shouldn’t be here. You...we...our paths are too diverged now. There is nothing here for us.”  
_

_Hermione needed to see it - the cruel and twisted skull that haunted her dreams. Maybe he was right, and they had been doomed from the start. Maybe if she just saw the evidence she could erase all the shades of grey in her mind. Maybe…_   
  
_She gently grasped his wrist, and he froze, his silver eyes boring into her soul with a look of complete distress. Slowly, Hermione's free hand pushed up the sleeve of his jumper, revealing the stark, angry black against smooth pale white._

_Countless shades of grey exploded in her mind, bursting hues that combined in a dance, creating a rainbow of ambiguity. Total darkness and pure light did not exist. They weren’t the personification of light and dark._

_They were simply Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy._

_Both victims of different circumstances, fighting in a war that shouldn’t exist and living with scars for which they didn’t ask._   
  
_Hermione knew at that moment what she needed to do. Letting go of Draco’s arm, she slowly stood._   
  
_“Good choice, Granger.” His words cracked over the sob that he so desperately tried to hold in. “I told you...there is no good in me.”_

_“Draco, we both have scars that we didn’t ask for.”_

_With a determined expression, she reached for the hem of her jumper and lifted slowly, revealing the garish purple scar._

_His sights flew to her exposed torso, skimming upward from the bottom of her ribs over the jagged, harsh lines that clashed against her skin and marred her chest. With a deep breath, he finally locked their gazes._   
  
_“You didn’t want it, Draco. You never did. Your scar is as unwanted as the one Dolohov gave me.” Pulling her jumper down, she reached out her hand to help him up._

_She felt an overwhelming urge to wrap him in her arms, to comfort and soothe his brokenness. None of their misfortune had been fair. Children shouldn’t have to live and die due to the cruel actions of adults - especially adults who were meant to love them._

_“You should hate me, Granger.” He took her hand, gently caressing her thumb as he stood. Looking up with tears welling, begging to fall down his cheeks, he choked, “I don’t know why you’re even here. I don’t deserve your kindness.”_   
  
_Hermione tentatively stepped into his space and lifted her chin to meet his eyes._   
  
_“A few months ago, a boy sat next to a girl who felt completely and utterly alone in this world. And it challenged everything she thought she knew about people.” She reached up and lightly grazed his jawline with her thumb. “I am here because I see you, and I think you see me...you see me when no one else does.”_   
  
_That was the moment she realized she had spent her entire life trying to be seen. Hermione Granger--the bookworm and swot who constantly needed to prove that she was worthy enough to have a place in this world. The best friend of The Boy Who Lived. The girl who desperately craved to belong somewhere, and even still felt so devastatingly alone and out of place._

_But Draco had seen her. On that Spring night, at the end of their fifth year when she was hurting and broken, he had seen her. He hadn’t known what to say, but Hermione hadn’t needed words at the moment. She had known his presence was a silent apology for the mistakes he had made and for the cruel words and actions of his youth._  
  
 _She rose onto the tips of her toes to kiss his cheek. Cool skin brushed her lips as she felt Draco gasp. As she started to pull away, he turned his head and lightly pressed his lips to hers. Her stomach fell to her toes, heart racing so swiftly she was certain it would force its way out of her chest and into his hands. The explosions of grey that had been etched across her mind morphed into a vibrant and shimmering display of color._  
  
 _Bright and booming fireworks continued as she kissed him back. She cautiously threaded her fingers into the soft blonde hair at the nape of his neck, and welcomed the warmth of his arms around her waist as he pulled her closer. She never wanted this moment to end. She felt alive and brave. She now understood why Paris stole Helen from King Menelaus. She would launch a thousand ships to forever capture and keep **this** feeling._

Harry shifting beside her yanked Hermione from her musings and back into reality. A reality in which she hadn’t seen Draco since nearly being turned to ash in the Room of Hidden Things. The blazing, uncontrollable Fiendfyre beasts that killed Crabbe was not the reunion for which Hermione hoped. However, it may have been an improvement from watching Draco’s anguished face as he was forced to sit helplessly and watch her torture. In _his_ home. By _his_ aunt.

The ache in Hermione’s chest grew as the invisible string pulled harder on her heart, and again she felt as if it would fly from her chest and into his awaiting hands. Then again, his hands had already held her heart for a very long time. 

Lifting her head and untangling herself from Harry’s arms around her shoulder, she sighed. 

“Harry...are you ready to go back? I...I need to find someone. I need to go back.” She started to stand, but a gentle hand encircled her elbow and pulled her back. 

“It’s so peaceful, Hermione. Just a few more minutes...please?” 

Hermione also wanted to stay in this moment. She knew that once she left this small sanctuary of quiet peace, she would have to face the realities of the aftermath. Uncertainty and grief stood just meters away, waiting to take her hand and lead her back to the castle. But something else stood with them - uncertainty, grief, and love. To get back to Draco, she would need to clutch tightly to all three. 

“I know, Harry. Part of me wishes we could stay like this forever.” 

“What if we can?” Harry sounded like he was pleading, his voice soft and gentle. Hermione knitted her brow, puzzled at his tone and change in demeanor. He turned his body to face her on the mossy log. Hermione took a second to study her best friend. His black hair, wild and messy. Dirt and blood still caked on his cheeks. He looked weary but purposeful. Taking her hands, he scooted towards her, tenderly making circles on the tops of her hands with his thumbs. 

“I said, what if we can? Hermione, this war...well, actually my entire life has taught me one thing, and that is to hold on tight to the ones who love you.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “Do you remember what you said to me during our first year after you solved Snape’s puzzle? You told me that I was a great wizard. You told me I was a good friend and that I was _brave_. Me. You were the first person to see that in me. I didn’t believe it then, but now I see, Hermione.” 

A pit slowly formed in Hermione's gut, uncertainty washing over her at his words. At the forlorn yet determined look in his brilliant green eyes. She nodded, and he continued. 

“See, Hermione. I never had friends growing up, but somehow you saw that I could be a good one. I never felt brave, but you constantly showed me that I could be. I’ve lost so many people that I love. What I wouldn’t give to hug Sirius again or see Fred’s goofy smile. I want to know the sound of my mother’s laugh and witness my father being the cause of her joy.”

A single tear trickled down his cheek, and Hermione couldn’t breathe. Harry was lost in his own thoughts, a distant look of longing on his face as he stared past her. Hermione let go of the breath she was holding. Shakily, she reached up to wipe the tear from Harry’s cheek. Grasping her wrist, Harry closed his eyes and leaned into her palm, seeking the familiarity of the touch he desperately craved.

“Hermione, we need to live in the moment. And at this moment, I need you to know that I love you. I have loved you for a long time...before I even knew. I wanted to tell you when we were hunting the Horcruxes, after Ron left. That’s when I realized. You would never leave me. You are the only person who has never left. YOU see the real me, Hermione.”

Hermione felt like she had been punched straight in the stomach. Her breath had been stolen from her lungs, and everything started to spin. No. This was all wrong. She loved Harry more than words could say, but not romantically. There was a beautifully broken boy somewhere in the castle that held her entire heart, and Hermione needed to find him. 

“Harry--”

“--Hermione, let’s get married. Tonight.” The look on his face was pure determination, and his voice was frantic. “I want to marry you as soon as possible. I can’t waste any more time. I need this moment. I need you.” 

It was all so familiar. Hearing Harry’s frenzied tone and seeing the look of pure desperation that colored his face transported Hermione back. Suddenly she was back in their secret alcove on the night Dumbledore had died. The night that had officially launched a war. The memory began to take over, and Hermione slipped into her own reminiscence.   
  


_“Draco, please,” she wrapped her arms so tightly around his neck, pressing her body so hard into his chest that they could have moulded into a single body. A single soul. “Please don’t do this. Stay with me. The Order can help you. I will help you.”_

_“It’s too late, Granger.” His words were drenched in sorrow as he stroked her hair. “It’s too late. They are coming. They may already be here.” He pushed her back gently, still clutching her shoulders. “Listen Hermione… you are the only good thing I have in this miserable life, and I am too selfish to let you go.” He dipped his hand into his pocket, pulling out a beautiful silver ring. In the middle sat a shimmering ruby, nestled between two sparkling diamonds. “It has always been you, Hermione. If we are lucky enough to make it out of this war, you are it for me.”_

_Seconds ticked by like hours. She knew their time was fleeting, that the universe left no time for her brain to process this. Logic had no place here. She let her emotions take over. For once, Hermione Granger gave her heart full authority over her actions._

_“Yes, Draco.” She clutched his shirt and yanked him forward, crashing her lips to his in a kiss fueled by grief and desperation. Coming up for air, she gasped, “I love you. I will always love you.” He held her cheeks in his hands and peppered kisses over the tears flowing down her face, whispering affirming, sweet words laced with uncertainty._

_“I promise Granger. I promise I will find you.”_

_Draco slipped the ring onto her delicate finger and tenderly kissed her hand._

_“I have to go.” He gently released her and turned to leave the safety and comfort of the small alcove where it had all begun. As he neared the corner, he paused and glanced back over his shoulder. Hermione savored the look in his eyes. She quickly scanned every inch of his beautiful face, making sure she had this moment to remember and return to in the days to come._

_“I love you, Hermione.”_

_And with that, he was gone. Distant sounds of terror cascaded through the halls of Hogwarts, and not an hour later, Dumbledore was dead._

“Hermione? Hermione, what are you thinking?”

Brought back to the present, Hermione shook her head and stared into the eyes of her best friend.

Harry. 

How could things have gone so wrong? This isn’t what she wanted. Her heart felt like it was crumbling into a million pieces. Not only was she not _in_ love with Harry, but she was already engaged to his enemy. 

Well, they weren’t truly enemies anymore. Too much had happened, and even Harry recognized that Draco wasn’t evil. 

But they certainly weren’t friends. 

It would be the ultimate betrayal, but she couldn’t delay. She had kept this part of herself hidden away from everyone, and Hermione was now standing on a precipice--forced to jump headfirst into an ocean of truth and heartbreak. 

She stood, letting go of Harry’s hands. Turning away from his gaze, she reached down to grab her purse, which held all the remnants of their time during the war. Hermione rummaged deep. Past the books and quills. Past the tent. Past all the memories, secrets, and moments she held so dearly. She felt the tiny secret pocket and dipped her fingers within to find the silver promise she had made. Taking a deep breath, she turned back to Harry. He looked up at her --hopeful and strong. He was brave, just like she always assured him. 

“Harry. I love you. I love you more than words could ever describe, and you know there is nothing in the world I wouldn’t do for you. But Harry… I can’t marry you.” She held out her palm, the ring catching the golden light from the awakening sun. “I am in love with someone else. I am engaged to someone else. And I am so sorry. I never ever wanted to hurt you.” 

Harry took the ring from her outstretched palm, studying it closely. The hope and strength twisted into a look of anguish and confusion.

“Is it Ron?” 

“No, Harry. It isn’t Ron.” 

His voice trembled as their gazes met. “I really don’t understand, Hermione. Who else could it possibly be? We have been together for the better part of a year. It’s always been us. Who are you engaged to?” 

It was here. The moment had finally come where Hermione's secret that had been tucked away in that small alcove, would finally come to the surface. Her throat closed up, and she couldn’t form the proper words. She stared down into Harry’s eyes and knew that the next moment would change their friendship. They weren’t children anymore, and it was time to face the music.  
  
A cool hand suddenly grasped hers. A warm, comforting presence pressed into her back, a familiar and beloved embrace. The smell of citrus and parchment flowed around her, and Hermione felt like she was finally arriving home. 

“Me, Potter. She is engaged to me.” Draco’s voice didn’t tremble. It didn’t waver. There was no cruelty or boastfulness, but Hermione detected a hint of possessiveness caressing the edges of his tone. 

Harry’s expression morphed. Confusion came first, which quickly twisted into rage. His face flushed red and angry tears rested in the corners of his eyes, a blink away from barreling out. He took a steadying breath and stood. Lifting his head to the sky and closing his eyes, he let out a deep and gutted sigh. 

“I am so tired, Hermione. I don’t even know how to talk to you right now. I have so many questions, but honestly, I am too angry to listen to your answers.” He ran his fingers through his hair and lowered his head. The look of complete despair gutted Hermione, and she couldn’t help but lunge forward and wrap her arms around his waist. 

Wetting his jumper as she sobbed, “Oh, Harry. You have been through so much today. It hasn’t even been two hours since you killed Voldemort. You are feeling impulsive and rash.” She tilted her head to meet his eyes. “You don’t want to marry me, Harry. You may think you do at this moment. You are fueled by grief and adrenaline, and I am the one who is here. But trust me, Harry, I am not the one for you.” 

Sighing softly, Harry kissed the top of her head and pulled away. Nodding to Draco, he turned and started the long walk back to the castle. 

Hermione was gutted as she watched her best friend fade from view. After saving the entire Wizarding World from evil, he was still left feeling utterly alone and abandoned. She never meant to break his heart, but she knew that in time, Harry would realize that she could never be the witch to make him happy. 

Turning back, she finally gazed into the eyes of the boy who captured and kept her heart. Neither spoke for what seemed like an eternity. Just like those long nights in their alcove, the silence slowly crumbled the walls they both built. Walls that were built with bricks of torture, pain, anguish, and terror. As each brick fell, the emotions washed over them in tall, cascading tidal waves. Silver eyes held firm to golden brown as the bricks continued to fall until there was nothing left between them. 

“Draco…” Hermione couldn’t hold back any longer. She ran full force into Draco’s arms and clung as tightly as she could. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he lifted her feet off the ground and swung her around in a joyful act of reuniting. 

Slowly setting her down and pulling an errant curl, he smiled. “Merlin, I missed you, Granger.” 

Hermione clung to every word. And as she rose to her toes to finally kiss the lips of the man she loved, she knew one thing was for certain...

She was never letting him go. 

**Author's Note:**

> Art done by the brilliant LadyScribbles


End file.
